Tag Archives: #spirit

LITTLE BOY

Hath fed the common purpose That draws the very heart of man, to the sacrificial hero!
Dangerous and promising are these dreams which seem to come from the heart’s deep recesses,
as have cast a spell of melancholy that leaves one dim.

Only by speaking about them in former times, has the world appreciated these voices from the skies.
There are no age limits, neither to the quest for spiritual growth, nor to its testing.

Beneath each of these mysteries, some preface and others express the grandeur of a true meaning;
some have shed new lights, some, disturbing.

The grandest have revealed new truths, no matter how strong the prose, the content has to be true.
To reach a mystical insight the words which the thoughts themselves preface, express;to understand the concrete problems the language must have been created by the body of man’s brain to reach it, the mind must have been perfected.

No matter what subject has been investigated it has in common three fundamental elements.

They are reason, the senses, and a grandeur: and when they interact with each other in perfect harmony the knowledge of truth is attained; the deepest, most true meaning is comprehended. We learn what is true
when our instincts are the tools to do what we know to be so; we lose ourselves when we do not know what we are; and we should know our own nature when we have used our minds to understand ourselves.

Reaching the depths of the unknown, understanding the whole nature of things, you attain an ascent to light:
like the body in a dream defeated by the weight of the body, the body in an inner form makes its way up from depths of darkness: and when one experiences this one is reborn; and when one sees this one is changed: ‘Twas in this way the poet was reborn upon this earth; and all he could atone for his human failures.

This is a melody about a man on a mountain who hears the voice of the moon and, unknown to himself, alighted with the noble heart. But the mystic of the moon was an empty moon: ‘Twas of the body of man the moon had no heart; only that of his body could he love. In his despair he sought to sacrifice his flesh. But the voice of the heart and the words from it frightened him. Then he walked on the world through the nights of the year and dwelt in deep oblivion. But what could be said to him, in his darkness, when, suddenly, a light shone through the darkness? That was his awakening, it was a vision of an inner light which drew him towards the universe. He went back to his own child, and he passed along the familiar path but what was the purpose? He sought a hidden light to brighten his way: but when he reached the end of the firmament, there was no light. How could it come from below when there was no light above?

This is a story of a mother in her humble home with a little child in her arms, who is nursing, and unaware of the wonderful events to come, in spite of her heart’s eagerness and in spite of her pride. His little fingers possess the world with an innocence which the immovable forces Avenge and they are known by a loving heart. In the courtyard she prays: but who she prays for? The next she sees he is walking down the stairs : with him goes his hand and he stretches out his little arms when the little boy reaches out his hands
and they know each other. But there is no single sound of their happy greeting nor is there a single person
they meet: the space is also their meeting place.

Life.

:: 03.28.2021 ::


LUSTFUL MOON

How long….how long can i hold your hand
within the darkness of this night!
Look! The moon shines — sweet heart / shines\
i have not felt flesh moreless a caring hand within this
venture called Life. Beautiful.
And now you chance the winds , the rain, and the world?

and of me?
I am drunk, high … i am fixated upon beauty of a heart
as you are.
We could cross the road toward wilderness or toward
the concrete city — i prefer wilderness.
Where we can be brilliant intelligent animals fornicating
under the silver light of the Moon.

Stay near. Me. So that I cam smell your skin and fill
my lungs with you.

:: 09.09.2020 ::


NEVER

TO never solve miracles of science
TO never have crawled out of a c–ave
somber thoughts
although some are a blessing
to a curse
some ensure military solutions
never understood words : but if
i ever lose my love | IF i ever lose
my Faith …my faith in you |
come home with me…that i may fill
my arms with you.

:: 08.07.2020 ::


EXPERIMENTAL LOVE

Hey oh hey darling
  how the leaves fall
from trees
all my life please
   just touch the
fallen leaves
   take me so closer
to you :  i am far away
so far away until the
wearing of my heart
fades away like night:
tonight my heart is
on the loose || oh
   my girlhood could have
desecrated you;  avoid infecting
the world:  my insides purged
my bloody tales with teeth
as an animal of a clean savior
to scour love.
   
:: 08.02.2020 ::


FALLING NOTE

A Night
as a falling note
upon the wishes
oh those dreams
of Life/
we go
…rushing river
passion bursting
the silver-Moon
you come
we go
over
there
!

:: 07.23.2020 ::


POLYGON

Polly gone
oh polygon
what quadri-
laterals you
possess!

two-dimensional
(go) figure made
up of straight sides
(besides myself)
oh Polly’s gone
prolly so i still see
your shadows within
my head but full fleshed
within my beating heart

is why Polly’s gone
oh polygon what quadri-
laterals you possess!

:: 07.21.2020 ::


BRONTOSAURUS

DEFINITELY a few minutes ago
: walked within your footsteps/
walking — oh, walking in your
footsteps\ hey mister, i would
not ask for more (i would not walk
within those foot steps) but could you
sing to me about how mighty brontosaurus
died even built three stories high: he
would never hurt a fly…
Execelsus
walking within those same footprints
are my own foot-steps…

:: 07.16.2020 ::


THIS POET WROTE:

THIS POET WROTE:
while leaves march down an empty alleysuddenly she is barely holding upon the blue skies /of punch red-blue\of a galant southern magnolia sweetand fresh of a sudden burning smellfruit for the fallen souls are we forever together.
far so for father trick of mind/here is a Strange Tale\upon his tomb stone. this POET WROTE
:: 07.13.2020 ::


WHATEVER MAY BE WITHIN YOUR DREAMS JUST DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME

LIGHT (frightening) fog upon the hood
and woods so many stars shining
so brightly  above and fluttering heart
of mine (this weather shall keep us together)
     oh, say all every night
& kiss me
& if you miss
     me hold just tight
     i am almost blue

STAR fading but i linger on Dear
  and shall linger unto dawn dear
  (dreams till sweet rose petals
  grow all within your footprints
     to ward    (oh ba bah bud)
me___ so now still craving your
kiss my Sweet Dreams Dreaming
  — behind you.

:: 07.10.2020 ::


WORD IS LARGER

WORD is larger than
typist fingers
as emotions are as the
wealth of a single word

And as this mass of feeling,
when this thing is on point
of coming forth; our
fears, our demons attack us
with force
the word
the image
attacks the mass of feeling

life or death?

:: 05-10-2019 ::
e.p.robles(c)